


Good Riddance

by Okadiah



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Ending, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okadiah/pseuds/Okadiah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian's inner musings after finally claiming Ciel's soul. Set sometime after the end of the second season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Riddance

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on FanFiction.net

It has finally come to an end, hasn’t it my dear Ciel? After so long as your most faithful butler, the final piece has been moved, the game won, bounty collected, and the lights are finally fading on this dreadful comedy.

_Finally._

I will not lie, little past-master, you played the game superbly. So well, in fact, that I must admit that a time or two you made even I, a demon, despair. Well played, Ciel Phantomhive. For someone of your age and skill you played most admirably.

But alas, all things come to an end. Even our little waltz.

You thought your game would never end, didn’t you, little past-lord? After my … unfortunate mental lapse regarding my end of the contract seal and those Trancy … meddlers, the game unexpectedly changed for the both of us, and you my precious feast, were taken from me in the most unbearable, humiliating way. You survived, against all odds, alive as a new born demon, forever out of my reach … and forever dictating my every move.

Well, that’s what everyone thought, now wasn’t it?

Do not get me wrong, little past-lord, for a time even I thought our game was over and that I had lost. Our contractual agreement was unfortunately still in effect, and what demon would ever willingly give up another bound demon? Especially one in service to them when they were human? I wouldn’t, and I knew you wouldn’t either, Ciel. Now that your soul was impossibly out of reach, I knew that you would enjoy making me suffer, enjoy parading me around, controlling me with a command and that ever despicable ‘ _Yes, my lord’_ , my constant reminder of my status beneath you. A child.

Revolting.

I’ve never known such humiliation in my extensive time as a demon. I’d originally thought I’d suffered the greatest amount of degradation I’d _ever_ experienced serving as your personal butler when you were human, but I was exceedingly wrong. A demon belonging to another, younger demon. Laughable. Disgraceful.

Pathetic.

I wish you could have known how many times I wanted to kill you, Ciel. Maybe you did know at least half of the time, and I imagine it brought your great pleasure, you miserable child. I’ve lost count of how many times I would have gladly given up your delectable soul if only to turn the tides. To make you serve me. To beat you, degrade you, _humiliate_ you just as you’ve done to me, only a thousand times over for all time.

But those, unfortunately, were simply thoughts and our … contract wouldn’t allow me do anything of the sort, now would it my dear Ciel? Those thoughts, as appealing and satisfying as they were, weren’t going to liberate me from that conundrum we were in. So, once a few years had past and I was able to look at you with simple distain and loathing (as opposed to the blood thirsty rage that consumed me endlessly) I started to, thankfully, think.

As intelligent and clever as you were, my dear Ciel, you lacked for one thing that I, on the other hand, poses scores of: experience. Being clever can get you only so far in life, but other lessons you learn only by living them, and as I’ve said before I’ve lived a very long time.

Oh, you thought you understood the world, didn’t you, you little devil? You, in your pompous, arrogant, brattish mind thought the world fit in the palm of your hand, particularly once you shed your humanity. You thought it was your plaything, a toy that you controlled with complete understanding of all the rules and where all the gray areas lay so that you could manipulate the game to your favor.

To a degree, this is understandable. There are no rules, save for divine credence and the rules we as demons make for ourselves once we enter a contract. After all, I personally explained all of the limitations that come with being a demon, just as you ordered me to, to facilitate you in your newfound enjoyment.

What I failed to inform you of were all of the … finer details. Clauses that demons spend entire lifetimes learning. Clauses I was going to let you experience for yourself … if you managed to live long enough to learn them, of course. After all, a butler shouldn’t make things too easy for his master, otherwise he’ll never learn anything for himself, will he?

It was surprisingly effortless to guide you down my path, my dear past-lord, once I’d regained my composure enough to think coherently. How had I not seen the answer staring me in the eye a decade ago, when this whole debacle began? I thought myself quite foolish … and quite brilliant. The game was about to begin again and this newborn idea was perfect. All of the elements were present, all of the pieces ready to be set, and best of all, you had no idea the game was afoot once more.

The funny thing about newborn demons, my past-master, is that they quickly become exceedingly arrogant. They hold so much power over beings as pathetic and weak as humans that they tend to feel invincible, Godly … it’s an easy mindset. I understand, I’ve been there, but after a while you learn that you’re only as invincible as you make yourself. There is always someone looking to steal your meal (as our own experiences can attest to) and if you have any weakness, it can (and invariably will) be exploited. Even by me.

You were different from other newborns, Ciel Phantomhive. You owned me from the very beginning. An experienced, bound, submissive, powerful servant right there to take care of all of your messes (and I am disgusted by the trouble you’ve gotten into over the years that I’ve had to attend to) and lead you in the pleasant life as a demon. I knew everything about you, everything that passed through your mind, all of your strengths and _every single one_ of your weaknesses.

As irony would have it, I became your Achilles heel. And you had no idea.

You relied on me a little too much, my young past-lord, and forgot that you shouldn’t trust everything I say. Because although I was bound to you, to protect you and serve you until the terms of our contract were met, I could still hate you, and plot against you.

And I did. _Passionately._

It was much easier to distract you, once you were a demon. The reserves, hesitancies, rules that you once spent hours turning over in your brilliant little mind were gone, and you behaved, for once, like your own age. A child. A demon child, make no doubt, but a child none the less. Once you realized how … enjoyable a demons activities are, you became enchanted. All the games you played when you were human couldn’t compare. I will admit that the Spanish Flu was truly inspired (though I have done better myself, of course) and there were a few times I was impressed with your skill, but you forgot that you were on my level now, and you were a child playing an adults game.

My game.

I’m sure dear Hannah never expected me to find a hole in her contract with Alois Trancy. Her contract with the boy stipulated that your soul be unattainable for all time, but the interesting thing is that once you’d undergone your demonic birth, her contract seal vanished, and mine returned to its place. Did you know, dear Ciel, that once the contract seal is gone, it signifies an official end to the contract? This is important, dear boy, because of the fact that there would be nothing stopping a particularly clever (though desperate, I’ll admit) demon from coming along and finding a way to modify or break Hannah’s original contract. Now I never would have been able to even _consider_ such a thing possible if the she-demon had been experienced enough to leave her contract open ended for the rest of eternity, but it seems some divine being was working on my behalf. She was dead, the original deal had been fulfilled, and I was free to figure out a way to make your soul mine once more.

You stood no chance, Ciel Phantomhive.

Love is such a strange emotion, don’t you agree? It’s an overwhelming disgusting emotion that humans can’t seem to ignore … or think reasonably with.

I know you cursed my name the moment you became human again, but truly I am not the one to blame, my dear past-master. It was that young girl, Anna I believe, some common name like that, but that doesn’t matter now, now does it? Perhaps I _might_ have pushed her in my desired direction, moving her piece expertly across the chess board, but it was all her wish that changed the game for us once more. She called forth the demon that changed you back, not I. All I did was notice a certain infatuation she had for you and … stoked the fire. I didn’t have to wait long before she was blindly in love with you, unable to see past the future she envisioned for you and herself that I knew my plan couldn’t fail.

And it didn’t.

You became human, in little Anna’s hopes and dreams of living a normal human life with you, which completed the terms of her contract (upon which the services were rendered and … paid in full), and allowed me to finally claim what was mine.

Everything evens out in the end, it would seem.

I will never forget that look in your eyes, my dear Ciel. The shock, bewilderment, disgust, confusion, and (it was there, I saw it, so don’t try to pretend) fear. Just a touch, but that look burned me alive, awakened the flame of my hunger for you and your precious soul that I’d long since thought dead. Finally after years, the tables had turned and the proud former Earl Phantomhive finally understood fear. Fear through me. It was such an honor, little past-lord, one of my crowning achievements in fact, next to claiming your tar covered white soul.

You were quick though (faster than I gave you credit for, I have to admit), and you almost ruined everything when you tried to rip out your own eye to negate the contract. It surprised me, I won’t lie. My retched young charge wasn’t going to give credit where credit was due, even after so long? How unlike the former Earl Ciel Phantomhive.  It would seem an extended life was much to your liking, and any end to it was to be avoided at all costs. I don’t blame you, in my position I would likely have done the same.

But I’d worked too hard, waited too long. You have no idea the strength of my hunger.

It pleased me to see you squirm and rage as we took our trip back into death to complete our long awaited transaction. You were causing such a ruckus that you managed to get water on your newly pressed shirt.  It was disappointing; no one appreciates the hard work of a butler these days. For decades I’ve toiled to make you look as clean and presentable as possible, yet you must always find a way to ruin my efforts, even on the cusp of death. Truly, dear Ciel, a little bit of respect for all of my hard work as your most faithful butler would have been appreciated over the years … but forgive me, little past-master, I digress.

I wasn’t sure if you would retain your soul once you became human again. I’m old, and I have seen a great many things in my time, but I’d never heard a story of a human-becoming-demon-becoming-human-again. It’s preposterous, of course, (what demon would want to be human? None I know) but because of this, I had no idea if the re-transformation would yield the outcome I desired. Demons do not originally have souls and, logically speaking, if a demon were to become human he would either parish instantly (for one cannot be human and live without a soul) or have to be given another’s.

But you, Ciel Phantomhive, were innately different. You’d possessed a soul once, and though you were a demon, your soul must exist somewhere. I gambled that it had simply been set aside, waiting for me patiently, but even if it hadn’t I’d have been happy with any soul of Ciel Phantomhive’s, original or not, so long as your death was at my hands.

As things would turn out, you received your original soul (thankfully) once you were human again, but what I hadn’t expected was the … purity of it. It would seem that, regardless of your time spent as a demon, none of those thoughts, experiences, and actions had carried over to taint and rot that perfect meal I’d waited so long for. Perhaps it is because you couldn’t relate to your demon memories anymore? Perhaps I managed to take your soul fast enough that it didn’t have time to spoil? Either way, it makes little difference to me. Your soul was perfect, just the way I’d left it.

I do believe you managed to pull together what was left of the young Earl Phantomhive once we arrived at deaths isle. You no longer struggled or resisted, instead held your head with that trademark Phantomhive dignity and calm determination in your once-again blue eyes.

It disgusted me. As a human, I venture to say I grew fond of you. As a demon, I despised you, and that hate had long since eaten away at any lingering sentiment I might have once held for you. 

I am embarrassed to say that I lost control, once we entered my haven. After our first failed attempt, and my extreme starvation, I tore into you with more haste and zeal than I could control. I wanted to make you hurt, I wanted to make you scream. I wanted to violate and degrade you as I devoured your soul and tore your body to pieces.

I took great pleasure in it. You can’t begin to imagine.

I saved your sealed eye for last, keeping you on the very edge of life so that you could experience every pain filled moment (after all, that is what you originally wanted, was it not?). Blood and gore was everywhere, painting my dining hall crimson red (table manners were the last thing on my mind, I regret to inform you my little past-master. I beg your pardon), and the scent of death and decay was heavy in the air. Glorious. How I’d missed this.

The appetizer, though delicious and satisfying, was only a prelude to the symphony of the main course to come, and I was ready. Yet, as I looked into that dark blue eye with my contract seal etched into its soft, reflective exterior, I saw one thing that very nearly ruined my appetite.

An order. One final revolting order.

Take the soul.

The nerve you had to tell me, a demon, what to do, even on the edge of death, was sickening.

But I was still under contract, wasn’t I? And as one hell of a butler, I did my job. And I did it perfectly with only your command in mind.  

I won’t go into the details regarding the ingestion of your soul (after all such matters are quite personal, don’t you agree?) but rest assured, it was exactly as I’d imagined it. I felt the restrictions of the contract lift and vanish like iron shackles finally unlocked and for the first time in a long time, I was satisfied. Your final order faded from my mind like mist in the morning light.

So now here I lay, on a bench covered in the remains of your body as the moon shines softly down upon me. I can’t stop the smile from sliding onto my lips as I allow my true form to unfurl out of the confining form of the accursed Phantomhive butler, and I lightly run my nails over my skin, enjoying the freedom and the much missed experience of success.

The nightmare has ended and dinner at last has been served, and for the time being, I am sated. The hunger will return, as it always does, and the hunt, the game will begin anew, but next time I will remember this experience like a warning. Your soul will still be with me, sitting in the place where my heart would be (if I had one of course) like a sharp, ragged stone … a constant reminder. My time in contract with you, Ciel, was the most … educational tenure I have ever experienced in my long life as a demon, and it is you I will think of when I finally claim my future prizes, you I will recall when I grin with satisfaction.

I doubt I will ever experience a soul such as yours again (much to my regret), have one so skilled and clever and young as my little past-master, but to be completely honest, I don’t want one. Not for another hundred years _at least_ , until this humiliating experience fades from my mind, a far away dream from a far away life. Perhaps than.

 So bravo, my dear Ciel Phantomhive, former Watchdog of the Queen and master of the butler Sebastian Michaelis. As I said before, game well played (the best I’ve played thus far), but alas, all things must come to an end. So good night, dear Earl. Farewell.

_Good riddance._


End file.
